For The Gold
by Ivy Leaves
Summary: Kingsport High has made it to the playoffs, but not everything is as perfect as it seems. Hank and Tyler are in the game, Val is cheering, and Caitie and Jamie are reluctantly watching when a rival team resorts to methods less than ethical to win...
1. By Now I'm Weak

For The Gold 

_It's hard; it's tough_

_Nothing's strong enough_

_To beat this screaming rage inside me_

_Kill me; slam me_

_I can't even look and see_

_Anything for the gold_

_Anything at all for the gold_

            They stopped for a moment as the football spiraled. The cheerleaders stopped cheering, the crowd stood in hushed silence, the players stood silent and still, sweat dripping from their brow in the midday sun. But among the silence, a single player reached out and caught the ball and began to take the few steps towards the goal line…

            The referee's whistle interrupted the game as it ended. Hundreds of eyes squinted towards the goal line and waited for the referee's signal.

            It was good.

            The field and bleachers erupted into pandemonium, with the cheerleaders screaming at the top of their lungs and the Kingsport football players slapping high fives and short, manly hugs while the Jackson players' faces grew dismayed.

            Tyler Connell got up from his position under the goal and walked over to the cheerleaders and gave a blonde a high five.

            "Well played, Connell," Valerie Lanier laughed. "Well played."

            "Thanks. Well cheered." He held out the football tucked under his arm, the winning football that he would get to keep after scoring the winning goal. "Here."

            Val stared at it with blue eyes, confused, then looked back up at Tyler.

            "Why?" she asked. "It's yours."

            "Keep it," he told her, pressing it to her. "Keep it."

            And he sauntered off; unusually calm for someone who had just made it to state high school football playoffs.

            "Thanks," Val whispered after him, her voice catching in the breeze that cooled the bodies of the cheerleaders and the sweaty football players.

            "I think there's a relationship blossoming," a voice said from behind her. Val spun, startled.

            Emilia Garvey smiled, her green eyes lighting as she adjusted her brown ponytail.

            "No," Val answered. "No relationship."

            "We'll see about that," replied Emilia, not pushing. "Ever seen Fiddler On The Roof?"

            "Yes," said Val uncertainly. "Twice."

            "There's a song I like from there," Emilia told her. "Matchmaker."

            And Emilia sauntered off just like Tyler, leaving Val alone with worries as to how Emilia, captain of the squad, might interpret the song. The lyrics ran through her head.

Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match, find me a find, catch me a catch… Matchmaker, Matchmaker, look through your book, and make me a perfect match…

Val hadn't thought of that song in a long time, and certainly not since she had fallen for Tyler, because the song suddenly made more sense than ever—

_For poppa, make him a scholar…_ Tyler got straight A's and had a 4.0 GPA. _For_

_momma, make him rich as a king… _Well, Tyler was rich enough, definitely. _As for me, well, I wouldn't holler if he were as handsome as anything… _Val watched Tyler, conversing with his friends in the afternoon light.

_Yeah, _she thought with a smile, _he's handsome._

She shook her head, simultaneously shaking away her thoughts. These were the

ramblings of an idiot—_after all_, she mentally laughed, _I don't want to **marry **him… do I?_

Oh, how this was confusing. Val stepped away from her standstill into the crowd,

to disappear among the bodies of many rejoicing.

Tyler watched her go.

_The theory's weak; I'm growing old_

_It's hot outside; inside I'm cold_

_Stop the feeling deep down in me_

Anything at all for the gold 

_Oh yeah, for the gold_

_For the gold—the gold, the gold…_

            Val walked into the party with a smile at her lips. She had gone home to change quickly out of her cheerleading uniform and into a lavender dress, and by the time she had returned to the gym—which had been decorated quickly with a banner and streamers—the party was in full swing.

            Her head swiveled on a slender neck as she searched the crowd for a familiar blond head. Val's eyes lit, much like Emilia's before, as she spotted the football player talking to the a couple other players and a couple of adoring fans.

            _Oh, right, no relationship, _Val snickered to herself. _How on earth does anyone _believe_ that?_

She chose not to answer that, because she knew that answering would lead to the conclusion that everyone else had known long before her. _And maybe he did, too, _said her mind. Val hoped that wasn't true.

            Her eyes regarded him for a moment before she decided he was busy, and wouldn't want to greet her anyway. Val looked around… Emilia, Jasmine, Caitie, Hank—_anyone_. Anything.

            Refreshments.

            She started towards the table with drinks and a huge sheet cake that was emblazoned with _Congratulations, Kingsport Cobras._ Val had a sneaking suspicion that the committee who had organized the party had made two cakes and waited for the outcome to choose which one. The other would probably be displayed when this one ran out—by which time no one would care if it said _Too Bad, Cobras. _

            A finger tapped her shoulder.

            Val spun and found she was looking into blue eyes and a smile.

            "Tyler," she greeted. "Surprise, surprise."

            "You already see me every day with EMS and games and school," he pointed out with a grin that assured her he wasn't criticizing her. "I don't know why it's a surprise."

            "It's not," said Val. "Joking." The silence was unbearably awkward.

            "So, hey, we made it to state!" Tyler said, switching subjects. "This is great!"

            "Yeah, fantastic." _No, Val, say something intelligent. Because this is not helping. _"Thanks for the football." _Not helping, not helping, not HELPING! _"It was really nice of you."

            "Hey, I don't have room for it," Tyler told her with a smile. "I was hoping you could give me back my keyboard and make room for it in your room."

            "Never. Brooke would kill me." Val laughed with her statement. "But it was sweet. Really, really sweet." 

_Excuse me, Miss Overachiever, but SWEET? I mean, he's going to notice… if he hasn't already. _**You know what, take a break, **argued her other mind voice. Val felt like she was going to be ripped in two, listening to her inner voices banter. **I mean, he hasn't noticed yet… and it's not like she hasn't used the line before. **_Yeah, my point exactly. Get new material! _**It's starting to show. Hey, look at me, I like Tyler Connell! Yeah, I said: I **

**L-O-V-E T-Y-L-E-R C-O-N-N-E-L-L! Yeah! Go Cobras, shake, shake—**

            "Shut up!" screeched Val. Tyler stepped back and looked at her.

            "Excuse me?" he asked tentatively. Val sighed. Great, good position. 

            "Sorry," she apologized. "I was just, you know, voices in my head and all."

            "Yeah. I know what you mean." He was relieved she hadn't been talking to him. Very relieved.

            "But," Val said, going back to the subject at hand, "it was sweet of you to give me the football. I mean, you didn't have to."

            "I wanted to."

            Their eyes locked, and suddenly Val was moving towards him and he was moving towards her and her eyes were closing and—

            "Hey!" David Dougherty yelled into Tyler's ear. They jumped apart.

            **Man, that always happens. We're missing the show here! **_Let's give a course on how not to interrupt when people are about to kiss. We can call it—"Kissing and Interrupting—When The Time Is Right." _**Good. And add 101 to the end. It sounds more professional. **_Good, very good. We can book Val and Tyler and Mr. "Let's celebrate with voices and not lips!" Dougherty. _**You, my partner, have a brilliant mind. What a coincidence, since we share one!**

            Val struck them out of her thoughts with a sledgehammer and slowly turned away.

            **Goody, goody, cake, cake, CAKE!**

            Val paid no more attention to her voices. Her own personal thoughts were complicated enough.

I have died, I have been beaten 

_I have killed, answer me_

_There are lives that have been taken_

_And in the end it all comes down to me_

_So lift me up, the air is cold_

_The grass is green, the sun is bright_

_Lift me up, the world is turning_

_I want the sun and no more night_

_I'm too far gone, I'm far too old_

_Anything for the gold_

By this time, anything for the gold For the gold 

Ouch, don't kill me if it stunk. But I like Val, and I like Tyler, and since fics like Simple To The Mind are more of a third person focused on Tyler, I wanted a third person omnipresent or third person focused on Val. So voila, I've written one, though it may change in later chapters. Oh, and who likes Val's voices? Maybe I'll name the italicized one Penelope and the bold one Marge. Any ideas? Yeah, I'll stop rambling and let you get to the important part—

REVIEW!

~Ivy Leaves


	2. Work Harder, Go Farther

For The Gold

**For The Gold**

** **

Chapter Two: "Work Harder, Go Farther"

"Okay, girls… and boys," added Emilia, her green eyes darting to the two male cheerleaders who were standing uneasily at attention. They were recruits for the playoffs, new in town and twin brothers. "Today we start practicing for the playoffs. We have three weeks, and they are going to be three tough weeks."

Amber Zamia spoke up. "What about school? And I have piano…"

"We'll have to work around everyone's schedules, yes," agreed Emilia, "because after all, we have an EMT, too—Val, wait, when can we have extra practices? Are you free any other time?"

"Saturdays from one to four. And Tuesdays and Wednesdays five to seven, but Wednesdays I'm third on call, so if there's an overload I might have to lead" said Val, thinking over her schedule. "Yeah, I think that's all, except for Sunday mornings."

"Saturdays one to three and Tuesdays and Wednesdays five to six thirty. Can everyone make it?" Heads nodded. "Anyone with an emergency, call and we'll have an understudy fill in. And if it seems like too much, drop out!" Emilia's voice rose to a firm yell that made certain everyone could hear her. "These are the playoffs! The players may be on the field, but we're on the sidelines and we have the halftime! We can't let the other teams think we're scum because we're not! We're the Cobras!"

"COBRAS!" yelled the cheerleaders. Emilia smiled, knowing her pep talk had worked.

"Okay, first of all, we have a new cheer. Each cheerleader is given a player's name, and those who don't have a name get to do the other part of the cheer. I've tried to match the cheerleaders up with their boyfriends or guys they like…" Smiles went up around the girls who were dating football players. "…So here's the list. Jasmine Hartford, Hank Beecham. Michelle Anders, Anthony Burnet." Squeals answered the girls who were matched up with who they wanted. "And Val Lanier, Tyler Connell."

"Excuse me?" shrieked Val. Emilia frowned innocently.

"Well, don't you have a crush on him?"

"No!" Val protested. "I mean, he's my friend. We're friends. Friends, as in, platonic."

"You two are about as platonic as I'm a Goth," remarked Jasmine bluntly.

Val opened her mouth, but her words were scrambled as they exited her lips. "I—he—work—school—not—," she said. Emilia sighed.

"You like him. He likes you. You guys should just stop pretending you're just friends and kiss already. Andrea Buckman, Hugh Raeford…"

Val sighed.__

_ _

My friends were all gathered round 

_And they told me to hear_

_I told them they were crazy_

But they said the truth was already revealed 

_ _

__"I am going to kill Emilia," said Val loudly enough for the others to hear as she walked into the kitchen and poured herself coffee. Tyler and Hank looked up from their checker game in surprise and Jamie sighed.

"Women." He jotted down the answer to the math problem and turned the page.

"Who made this coffee?" inquired Val, coming around into their view and holding up the mug accusingly.

"Me," responded Tyler in reflex, jumping Hank's red checker and looking up again. "Oh my God."

Hank and Jamie murmured similar things as they looked at Val.

"No comment," she said firmly, "make absolutely_ no _comment."

She actually looked pretty nice in it, reflected Tyler, but he had never seen Val in a stereotypical cheerleading outfit before. The Kingsport Cobra cheerleaders wore cheerleading sweaters and skirts ever since the captain of the squad had protested against inhumane treatment and stereotyping of cheerleaders three years ago.

But apparently the cheerleaders had dropped that idea, because Val was standing there, scowling, in dark red-and-white pleated skirt and dark red tank top that was cut two inches above her waist, contrasting tanned skin with the burgundy red of the Cobras.

"Well," began Hank, "it's very flattering."

"Don't even_ start," _said Val, putting the coffee down and falling unhappily to the couch, landing on Jamie's feet without apology. "I'm already going to kill the damned budget committee for having enough money."

Everybody's mouth dropped at Val swearing. Tyler had heard her swear once, but that wasn't a really_ bad _word, and that was it. Hank was glad Alex wasn't in the room, and Jamie broke into a grin as he fought to get his feet out from under her.

"I like your language! Now, if you'd just get off my feet…" Val laughed and rose, then sat down again when Jamie's feet were safely out from under her.

"But you won't guess what else happened," moaned Val, her brief good mood disappearing. "I mean, you really won't guess."

"Are you going to try?" Hank asked the others.

"I'm thinking, not if Val has as good a right hook as Caitie, because my guess is a little on the obscene side," replied Jamie.

"Agreed," Tyler said. "Except for the obscene part," he added, casting a sidelong glance at Val and deciding her left hook was what he was worried about.

"I'm not even going to_ ask," _said Val to Jamie. "I don't want to know."

"Well, if you think about it in the logical sense, it really isn't that difficult to think that—" Jamie was stopped by Hank's hand over his mouth. "Humph blurb cagh hmm hmmph!"

"All right," Val continued, ignoring Jamie and his blurbs, "so we had this new cheer for the playoffs, and it's a perfectly nice cheer and all but—but half the cheerleading squad is matched up with the football players they have crushes on, and they matched me up with_ him!" _Her finger pointed towards Tyler, who shrank back and hoped Jamie wouldn't make an evil crack that would let go of a very important secret that involved Val and crushes…

"Tyler?" Hank sounded like he was trying not to laugh. "Tyler? Does he have to cheer?"

"No, we have to do this—no! Not going there. I'm not going to perform for you."

"Oh, come on," whined Jamie. This was getting fun.

"Do_ you _want more school spirit than you need?" Val asked pointedly.

"Taken. Don't."

_Oh, come on, Val, show him, _said Val's inner voice, presenting itself once more._ I'll do it, if you want._**Oh, now we're going to see Duncy embarrass herself? I mean, really, we wanted entertainment, not an everyday happening. She's named Duncy, for heaven's sakes, as in Dunce.**_Oh yeah? Well, your name's Marge!_**And you're saying Marge is worse than Duncy?**_Yeah!_**Yeah?**_Yeah!_**Yeah?**

'Get out of my head,' Val ordered them. 'Get out right now.'

**C-O-Double N-E-Double L! C-O-Double N-E-Double L! I said, T-Y-L-E-R! Go Tyler! Cobras, cobras—**

'That's not how it goes,' Val said. 'And shut up.'

"But—the point is—," she said, ignoring the rants of Duncy and Marge, "that they think I have a crush on Tyler. And they think he has a crush on me. Which isn't true."

"Shouldn't you ask Tyler about that?" questioned Jamie slyly. Val's breath caught before she realized it was_ Jamie, _the continuous practical joker, and he was just making another joke. Still, she didn't meet Tyler's eyes as a barely noticeable blush rose on her face.

Jamie was about to crow out that Val was blushing when the bell rang.

The siren surprised them all, and Val jumped from her thoughts. The others ran out of the room and she followed them.

"I don't have to go save lives in my cheerleading uniform, do I?" she moaned of Alex, who was standing by the door, heavily amused.

"There's an extra jacket in the ambulance," Alex told her. "Put that on."

Val groaned and ran out.__

_ _

_Because they knew that…_

_You have to work harder_

_To go farther_

_And pain means you're succeeding_

_You have to work harder_

_To go farther_

_And pressure means you're doing it right_

_ _

__"One, up, two, three, four, hold! One two three four five and down! Anna, watch Rick's foot! Val, I want your right arm_ up _when you end the flip, and everybody needs to smile! Smile! I know you're all tired and hot, but if we don't smile, no one gets excited. If no one gets excited, our noses get rubbed in the dirt. So smile! And again!" Emilia's voice rang out over the stadium. Amber sighed.

"One break," she begged. "Five minutes. Please?"

Emilia contemplated the idea and came up with a verdict that was definitely on their side:

"Oh, fine. Take five."

Val jogged off and grabbed her water bottle from the bench.

"Hey."

Val screamed and her water bottle splashed water all over Tyler. He stood there a few moments, dripping, while Val burst into quiet laughter.

"I'm glad_ you're _amused," he said.

"Well, I'm not wet, am I?" she asked. Tyler snatched the water bottle from her and leveled it at her head.

"I have very good aim," joked Tyler with a very heavy Russian (or German, or Deutsch—it was hard to tell when he wasn't that authentic) accent.

"Please lower the water bottle," said Jasmine from behind Tyler in a megaphone that had been sitting on a bench. Tyler jumped at the sound. "Val's our big star. Can't have her getting wet."

"I'm about as big of a star as Tyler is dry," said Val.

"You're going to be wet, too, if you don't stop it right now," Tyler warned her, gesturing at the water bottle.

"Me?"

"Don't you dare," said Tyler automatically as Jasmine raised the megaphone to his ear again. "I've already lost my sense of hearing."

"Jeez, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed," Jasmine said good-naturedly, slinking off.

"So why'd you come?"

Tyler shifted. "I was bored."

"Oh."

It was very annoying when things were that quiet, Val realized. Very annoying when things were that quiet and you were inches away from the guy you liked.

Suddenly, Val had an overwhelming urge to lean forward and kiss him.

"So…" she began, trying to get her mind off of him—and his lips. "How's Alex?"

He squinted. "Is something wrong?"

"No."_ Except I'm really dying to kiss you, but hey, that's normal, right? _"Why do you say that?"

"You just asked how Alex was," Tyler pointed out. "No one in their right mind asks how Alex is."

"True," agreed Val. Emilia's bark interrupted the short silence.

"Five minutes are up!"

Groans filled the air as they filed onto the field to attempt the pyramid hold once more.

"See you," Val told Tyler, taking the water bottle from him and swallowing the last of the water.

"Bye," he said as she jogged onto the field. Tyler sat down on the bench and watched the practice continue.

_And that, _he thought,_ is the first-hand course on how to act with your crush._

_ _

_And here I am_

_Looking in your eyes_

_And some part of me_

_Wants out of this fight_

_No pain, no gain_

_But was gain what I was looking for?_

_No work, no pride_

_But my pride's been trampled on the floor_

_ _

__"So," began Caitie as she dipped the brush into the nail polish, "I personally think you should make a move."

"No." Val looked at the teen magazine. "Bad idea. Very bad idea." The brush ran across her toenail as she flipped the page. "Who reads these magazines anyway?"

"I do," Caitie piped up. "It's where I get my style from."

"Oh, shut up," Val said, sitting up and sticking her tongue out.

"Back to the subject," said Caitie, avoiding the subject as she expertly ran a white slash across the next burgundy nail that was the subject of her attention. "Which is why it's not a good idea to make a move on Tyler."

"Because—well, A, he might not feel the same way…"

Caitie snorted. "Yeah, right." Val ignored her.

"B, we are co-workers… and C… well, C, it's just not a good idea."

"C is no excuse and B… well, for three weeks you're not going to be co-workers, right? Because Alex let you go for the playoffs?"

"Yeah…" Val turned the page again.

"So make your move then. This is the twenty-first century!" Caitie ran another white streak over a nail and closed the lid. "All done."

"I don't think so," Val remarked disdainfully—not referring to the nail job. "I really don't think so."

"Oh, well, whatever you want."

"Look at this! 'Love Triangles: You hate her, she wants him, he's being mysterious, and you like him". Who writes this?"

Val tossed the offensive article and the magazine along with it onto the floor, never thinking about what prophecy it might hold…__

_ _

Because… 

_You have to work harder_

_To go farther_

_And pain means you're succeeding_

_You have to work harder_

_To go farther_

And pressure means you're doing it right 

_ _

__The bus pulled to a stop, with another stopping directly behind it. The players and cheerleaders immediately jumped off and began to unload their bags.

"Great," Val said to Emilia, "this is going to be our home for the next three weeks."

"Don't sound so excited," smiled Emilia. "After all, Tyler's here."

"Happy days," muttered Val. "I get to spend three weeks with everyone saying they think we should get married."

"I'm more concerned with what you're going to name your kid," Emilia said, overhearing. "Maybe Emmy, after Auntie Emilia?"

"Shut up and help me. I think my suitcase got stuck under Amber's two-ton duffel bag."

"Whose bag is_ that?" _a voice asked. Val turned and saw Hank and Tyler, easily carrying their bags.

"Amber Zamia's," grunted Emilia, tugging at Val's suitcase in an attempt to dislodge it from underneath the yellow hippopotamus.

"Hold on." Val grabbed Hank's hand and put it on the handle. "Pull."

He pulled.

"Ouch. I think I got a blister," complained Hank. He tugged it again. "This is immovable. How on earth did Zamia get this into the bus in the first place?

"Count of three," said Emilia, gripping it. Val and Tyler followed, Tyler's hand landing on top of Val's. Her mouth flew open with surprise at the jolt of electricity that ran up her arm, tingling, as his hand touched hers.

_I, _thought Val,_ am a hopeless romantic. _She shook off the spark and her surprise at it instantly—it had probably just been static electricity.

The bag moved.

"And heave!"

It came off the suitcase all together and they put it on the sidewalk. A dark blonde came up a moment later and easily swung it over her shoulder.

"Thanks for getting it out of the bus, guys!" she chirped happily. They all gaped at Amber as she skipped off.

"That girl is as strong as an_ ox," _commented Emilia. They all nodded in agreement.

"Thanks for your help," Val said. "See you around." She hauled the black suitcase out and balanced its wheels on the sidewalk.

"'Kay, let's go," Emilia agreed, getting her purple bag out of the baggage compartment.

She and Val set off on the sidewalk with the sign GIRLS' DORMS on it and the others followed them a short way until the sign BOYS' DORMS showed itself and they branched off.

*

"Cool, we're roommates," said Emilia as they retrieved their keys from the desk clerk. "Room 511."

But Val's mind was on other things.

"Who is that?" she inquired, pointing towards the elevator, where a girl was pushing the button insistently.

A very gorgeous girl.

Thick, dark brown locks fell to her shoulders around a perfectly shaped face with a classic nose and carved cheekbones. Her skin was a caramel-colored tan and her eyes were gray.

Cold gray that didn't reflect any of the smile that curved at her lips.

Val shivered.

"Brittany Ashton, I'd guess," Emilia said with a grimace. "Her reputation is about as big as the state—she takes guys, reels them in, uses them, and lets them go again, breaking their heart. Purposes? Money. Winning. She doesn't care who she tramples on her way to the top."

Val fidgeted and looked at the girl again.

"She's making me feel inferior," whispered Val, making sure Brittany didn't overhear.

"Don't give a thought about her figure," Emilia told Val firmly. "You are intelligent and a valuable cheerleader and EMT and student and you have a promising career in front of you once you graduate and go to college. She might not even make it into college!" Val nodded, but her envious gaze kept going to Brittany's tight jeans and sweater. Generally Val wouldn't care about curves, but her crush on Tyler had been getting more serious lately…

"Still, Tyler might, I don't know, like me better if…" mentioned Val morosely.

"Tyler likes you for_ you, _Val! Jeez, get over yourself and ask him out!" Emilia rolled her eyes.

"Why does everyone say I should do that?" questioned Val.

"Because you should," Emilia explained. "Come on. It's not like he doesn't like you!" She picked up her bag. "Let's go up to the room." Val nodded and grasped the handle of her bag, rolling it along the floor to the elevator.

The elevator had only gone up to Level 3 when Val said, "But you don't think Tyler would like her, do you?"

"She probably thinks Tyler's a small-town hick. You don't have to worry." The elevator beeped and the doors opened. "Val, relax. We don't have practice until tomorrow and you have plenty of time to hang around with Tyler and Hank and me and everyone. Forget about Brittany. Think about Tyler. Think about asking him out. And then do it!" They reached their room.

"Fine." Val unlocked the door with her electronic key and pushed it open. "Hey, nice place. I wonder if there's a mini-bar."

"That's the Val I know," laughed Emilia. "All charges are paid for by the sponsors, right? So we get control of the mini-bar and the room and room service without paying extra. How great is that?"

"I think I'll have eaten too much to cheer," said Val, putting her suitcase down and unzipping it.

"Yeah, right."

"You think Tyler would accept?" Val asked, distracting herself from unpacking and sitting down on a chair, her knees folded up to her chest like a small girl.

"Of course."

"'Cause it would be really embarrassing if he turned it down. Hey!" Her eyes lit up with an idea. "Would you ask him out for me?"

"No."

"Oh." The light faded. "Fine. I'll ask him out."

"That's the way to go," said Emilia.

"Yeah. Do you think if Brittany asked him out, he'd accept?" asked Val forlornly, looking out the window and putting her chin on her knees. Emilia bit her lip.

"Maybe."

"Oh. Okay."

Emilia sighed and looked at the clouds along with Val.__

_ _

_I've got pain_

_I've got pressure_

_I don't what's wrong with me_

_I thought I had the nerve but now I see_

_I have to work harder_

_That much_

_That much harder_

_ _

_ _

**_ _**

**_ _**

**Yes, I am fully aware it stunk. Oh well. Next chapter should be interesting…maybe. What happens when Val tries to ask out Tyler? Why is Brittany being such a jerk? And has Brittany finally realized the only way to make the stars of the show fall? Stay tuned for… Yeah. Anyway. No one except Brittany, Emilia, Amber, Amber's bag, and Kingsport High's cheerleading uniform belongs to me. The others belong to Alliance Atlantis. Bye!**

** **

** **

**~Ivy Leaves**


	3. Morals Are For Fools

For The Gold

For The Gold

Chapter 3: "Morals Are For Fools"

"I don't think I can do this," said Val. Emilia rolled her eyes.

"Of course you can do it. All you do is walk up, start a conversation, and when it seems right, say 'Do you want to go out with me?' Very fast, simple, and effective."

Val toyed with a blond strand of hair. "What if he declines?"

"He's not going to," Emilia said, sure of herself. "Why would he? He likes you."

"But if he says no… it could really hurt our friendship," Val worried, beginning to pace. "And I value his friendship. And then it would hurt our job… and then it would be awkward… maybe I don't want to do this."

"Well, too late, there he is." Emilia pushed an awkward and surprised Val in the direction of Tyler, who was walking with Hank and Anthony, another player.

"But… I'm not ready!" whined Val. Emilia merely smiled and stopped in front of the trio.

"Tyler, Val has something to ask you… Anthony, Hank, you better come with me…" Emilia pulled the football players out of earshot.

"What are you doing?" hissed Hank. "What's so important?"

"Val—if she finds the courage—is about to ask Tyler out. Be quiet."

"Oh, this is good…" The three watched in silence from underneath their cover of a tree.

"Hey, Val," Tyler said happily. Val took that as a good sign—he was happy to see her. Or maybe he was just being cheerful. Hmm…

"Hi… Tyler…" Val hopped discreetly from one foot to the other. This was making her nervous.

"Are you rooming with Emilia?" Tyler questioned.

"Yeah… are you with Hank or Anthony? Or someone else?" Small talk. Small talk was good… now if she could only relax…

"Hank."

"Oh. Good."

Silence. Again.

"So, anyway, Tyler, I wanted to know if you—well, I mean, it's okay if you don't want to, but—see… I was wondering if…"

"Oh my God, are you from Kingsport?" A peppy voice interrupted Val in the middle of her sentence. Tyler turned.

Brittany Ashton.

Val's worst nightmare had come true.

She was right, Emilia was wrong. Tyler might like Brittany, Brittany was interested in Tyler. Val could tell in her voice, and the look in his eyes was… well, maybe that was surprise, but he would like her. No guy could honestly resist those curves.

"Yeah. That's us," said Tyler, sizing her up in a quick blink. She had changed clothes—now she was in her cheerleading uniform, dark blue with yellow pleats in the skirt and PANTHERS in block letters across her chest.

"Wow! I'm Brittany Ashton, from Charleston. We've won the last four playoffs and I hope we get to number five, then we'll set a record!" Her perkiness was decidedly faked so that she seemed peppy and cheery and drew admirers. Val would bet her crush on Tyler that she was a deadly opponent.__

_What have I gotten myself _into? Val asked herself. This was going to turn into a battle if Brittany made a move.

Which she would, of course.

"That's great," said Tyler. Val wasn't sure if his tone of voice was excited or not.

"So, I better go. I have to get to practice. See you around…" Brittany trailed off.

"Tyler," he supplied. She smiled.

"Tyler." Brittany made it clear she approved. She flipped her thick curls teasingly and walked away like a cat on a runway.

Tyler's eyes followed her a moment before turning back to Val.

"What was it you wanted to say?" he questioned.

"Nothing," sighed Val. "Nothing at all important."

What chance did she have against_ that? _She wasn't going to give up, but right now, she couldn't fight. The tone was ruined and it would be even more awkward to ask him now.

Brittany had chosen her timing well.

Val wasn't giving up, though. It might seem crazy for her to take an unspoken challenge, but she had seen the dare in Brittany's eyes, and that was enough for her to fight on.

*

"Why did she have to come then?" moaned Val. "I was on the verge of getting the words out, and then she jumps up in her fake perkiness and he forgets all about me!"

"He didn't forget about you," said Emilia from in the bathroom, where she was taking her shower. "If he had forgotten about you, he wouldn't have turned back to you after she left. And he was looking at you some of the time while she was there."

"Yeah," Val said sadly, "when he wasn't checking her out."

"He wasn't checking her out," argued Emilia. "He was sizing her up."

She opened the door and came out in a white bathrobe, followed by a cloud of steam that quickly evaporated in the cooler air of the room.

"Well, either way, she we're at war," Val said.

"For Tyler?"

"I guess so. I mean, the look in her eyes was just creepy. It's like, 'Go away or else', stressing the 'or else'." Val sighed. "I mean, can't she just go for Anthony or something?"

"No." Emilia seemed to be in deep thought. "No, because Tyler's the first string wide receiver. She wants the wide receiver. The receiver on Panthers is Gerald Hunan, and I think he's having an ankle problem, and if she can manipulate Tyler… they could win. Because Tyler subsiding would mean victory for Gerald Hunan, and victory for the receiver is victory for the team."

"She wouldn't do that to Tyler!" Val felt like something was choking her. Brittany was going to get Tyler and once the game was done, she would dump him like a bag of wet matches. And even if Tyler liked Val then… it might be rebound. So, in the end, she would be cold and alone and Brittany Ashton would have gotten her way.

"Oh, she would."

Val's voice was hard and cold when she spoke next: "It's war, then. Utter and complete war."__

_ _

_*_

_ _

__"What happened to Val?" Hank asked, watching the blonde limp towards them, clutching her stomach.

"No idea," answered Tyler, "but it sure looks painful."

"Very good, Connell," remarked Hank dryly. "I'm sure you're going to win a Nobel Prize for your observations." Tyler ignored him.

"Hey, Val! What happened?" inquired Tyler once she got close enough. Val groaned and pulled the bottom of her shirt up, exposing her stomach.

Tyler and Hank grimaced. Her skin was blistering and mottled, pinkish and raw.

"Someone put something on my shirt while the cheerleaders were practicing an hour ago. Do you know how hard it is to stand up straight when your stomach has blisters on it? I don't know what it is, but I think I'm allergic to it."

"Yeah… looks like an extreme type of contact rash to me," Hank said. Tyler touched her stomach gently.

"That hurt?"

"A little." Val prodded the rash an inch over. "Hurts more right there."

Tyler poked it again. "There?" Val winced.

"Yeah. I don't know what it could be…"

"Are you allergic to anything?" Hank cut in. Val bit her lip in thought.

"I think I'm allergic to an ingredient used in some kinds of perfume," she said. "But I don't know. People also use it in a type of soap."

"That's probably what it is," Tyler stated. Hank nodded agreement.

"Yeah. It'll subside in a few days if you take medicine or put cream on it."

Tyler looked at Val.

"I'll go with you to the pharmacy," he volunteered. Val smiled slightly.

"Sure." She rolled her shirt down over the rash. Tyler gently put an arm around her shoulder for her to lean on.

"Okay, come on…"

They walked off together, Val gritting her teeth through the pain that had become, miraculously, lessened by the fact Tyler's arm was around her shoulder.

But it still hurt.

Hank chuckled to himself._ They're just such idiots when it comes to each other. Val thinks Tyler doesn't like her, Tyler thinks Val doesn't like him, and in reality they're both completely, totally, 100 percent head over heels for each other._

__Oh well. Life.

He sighed and turned away.

_ _

*

"Hey, Val, mail!" Emilia said as she opened the door to the room, picked up the envelope with Val Lanier scrawled on it in ink the color of blood.

"Huh?" Val bounded off the bed where she was reading her book and took the envelope from Emilia, ripping it open. The torn, white paper drifted to the floor as she unfolded the note, written on matching, typical white paper.

Val's face went pale as her eyes ran across it.

"What is it?" asked Emilia. "Who's it from?"

Val tried to respond, but her jaw was clenched and quivering at the same time, biting her lip like the world was going to self-destruct in the next five seconds. Emilia took the paper from Val's shaking fingertips and read the letter neatly typed:

** **

**Val,**

**I think you know who this is. I think you know what I want. I think I saw it in your eyes the instant I interrupted your_ touching _conversation with him. Who's he? I think you know that, too. Wait. Scratch think. I_ know_ you know. **

**I'm going to get him. Tyler's mine. Get away before you really regret it. That stunt with the perfume rash? Ha. That was nothing compared to what I can do. I can do things you couldn't even imagine. I can wrap him around my finger. And then I can crush him. Leave him to me. You can relax. He won't be dating anyone for a while once I'm through with him. **

**Morals are for fools, Val. I'm not a fool. Ethics are for idiots. I'm no idiot. You may have a crush on him, but don't forget—I'm_ me!_**

**--Your Enemy, Brittany Olsen Ashton__**

**_ _**

**_PS—In case you haven't noticed, my initials are BOA. As in, BOA CONSTRICTOR. Tread with care._**** **

"Oh my God. I can't believe she… Val? Are you okay?" Emilia looked up to see Val staring, shocked, at the door.

"She's going to hurt him," Val said, worried. "You saw it! She's going to crush him! I can't just—stand back and watch!" She reached for the doorknob. Emilia stopped her.

"Wait. Look, I want to hurt her as much as you do—though maybe not for the exact same reason—but if we barge in like elephants, she'll get us all the more easily. Snakes can kill elephants."

"Is Tyler an elephant?" asked Val. "Well, I mean, in the figurative sense."

"He's kind of like the bird that sits in the nest and doesn't notice anything. Except a male bird, not a female one that sits on the eggs."

"What do birds have to do with anything?" Val asked. She sat down on the bed. "I don't want Tyler to get hurt," she told Emilia. "And if she takes any further steps towards him, I'll stomp on her. Elephants can stomp on snakes, right?"

"Crush the head first," advised Emilia. "The body will follow."

"Disgusting," Val said bluntly. "That's just gross."

"I think we're getting off the topic," said Emilia. "Okay, think of it this way. Brittany wants Tyler."

"Yeah," agreed Val, taking the letter from Emilia. "Yeah, and just so that her team can win." She crumpled the letter in her fist, then unfolded it and crumpled it again, trying to imagine it was Brittany.

"You like Tyler."

"You're just trying to get me to admit that," Val said, smashing the paper again.

"You like Tyler," repeated Emilia. Val sighed.

"Yes. Yes. I like Tyler. I like him a lot." She swung her legs up onto the bed and crossed them, resisting the urge to fold them up and hide her vulnerability. "And that's the whole problem. If I didn't like him, then this wouldn't be such a big deal. If I didn't like him, the only thing I'd have against Brittany is her—well, flaunting of certain features, I guess you could say. If I didn't like him, I wouldn't have a rash on my stomach." Val was about to say something else, but couldn't choke it out.

"It's fine, Val," Emilia said, sitting down next to her. "We're going to get Brittany. And then you and Tyler can kiss and live happily ever after."

"Yeah," Val said dully. "Sure."

"You know, if you showed this letter to Tyler…" Emilia hesitated. Val shook her head violently.

"No, because then he'd know I had a crush on him and if he knew I had a crush on him then he might think I wrote the letter to make him hate Brittany. Then I'd be even worse off. No. I'll find another way to make him find out."

Ha. I am capable of cliffhangers, if this counts as a cliffhanger. I wouldn't know. Actually, I just got tired of having writer's block on this story and decided this was the end. So… erm, let me think about what's next in the plot… huh. I'm getting to that.

Okay, and I have to say:_ This is not, in any way, shape or form, a copy of It's Just A Girl!, by Sunnymelon. **This was originally Play The Diamonds, but then I made up this instead, so…THIS WAS ORIGINALLY PLAY THE DIAMONDS. IS NOT A PLAGARIZATION OF "It's Just A Girl!", which is a great story by Sunnymelon. **_Good. That's covered.

Well, PLEASE review! I just lurve reviews. Lurve lurve lurve lurve. So review and make me happy!!!

-----IVY LEAVES


End file.
